


Changes Come

by Sjukdom



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gift Fic, Humor, M/M, Sexual Humor, gobblepot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-07 07:09:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5447714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sjukdom/pseuds/Sjukdom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Jim his work has always been the most important thing in his life. But then something changed and work became more trouble than anything else... Especially in one particular area.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Changes Come

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Still_and_Clear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Still_and_Clear/gifts).



> This is my gift to lovely Still_and_Clear as part of this year's gift exchange among Gothamites. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! <3

Gotham was the kind of city that hardly slept. And even if it did, it snored so loud that its inhabitants couldn't sleep anyway. “Calm” was not the word to be found in Gotham. Probably, it didn't even stand in local dictionaries because of its complete uselessness. If one wanted words like “calm”, “quiet” and “family town with shops around the corner”, one should change his mind, pick up his luggage and catch a bus. 

In general, Jim liked it. One might think that soldiers craved still and peaceful life with as little noise as possible and longed for daily routine, which began with a morning newspaper smashing glass in their door, because the boy who delivered newspapers had something personal against soldiers. Jim, however, was fed up with routine in the army. And with boredom, which often followed the routine. They were, in fact, the best comrades and brothers in arms ever. But this word, “boredom”, wasn't in Gotham's dictionaries either. Here it was hardly spoken and in the police department it wasn't spoken at all. Maybe, that's why he decided to join the police force and make it his life. Jim was quite happy to live a life like that.

But sometimes it all seemed a little inconvenient. Whatever it was that he intended to do (except working, of course), it was disturbed by life, which came to him and stood tugging impatiently at his sleeve, like an attention-seeking toddler. And if he didn't pay attention, it went trashing and screaming, ruining his plans before they had even been established. 

This happened to Jim quite a lot since he met Oswald. Until then his life consisted mostly of work and when Barbara left, “mostly” slowly began to turn into “completely”. Oswald became an obstacle to this process, small, but efficient. If only one obstacle was enough to stop the whole machinery, created by another comrades – work and life...

It became clear soon that they were very lucky to get physical at all. They kissed and hugged and even managed to cuddle a few times. But then various parts of their bodies began to demand more and cuddling got quite awkward and rather uncomfortable. Mostly because of those parts which stopped to fit in. Life, of course, was very displeased with their intentions. Jim and Oswald often felt themselves as parents of a hyperactive child, who couldn't be outsourced to babysitters.

***

Another round of cuddling was ready to become something more exciting. Jim kissed Oswald's neck and undid his tie carefully, afraid to tear thin silky fabric. Oswald purred something approving and stroked his back. Jim began to unbutton his vest. And his shirt. And there was an undershirt, too. Jim was impressed with this number of various clothing items on only one person.

As they fought their way through shirt's buttons, Jim's phone rang. He grunted and reached out for it. Anyway, his excitement had begun to fade four buttons away already.

“Harvey?”

Oswald fiddled nervously with yet another button and watched Jim's face expression changing from expectancy to resignation. He hung up and sighed, then looked at Oswald. Despite all their efforts, he was still too much dressed for Jim's taste.

“Next time put on less clothes”, Jim told him, getting up. “And maybe I'll manage to undress you _before_ someone else decides to break the law.”

***

Next time they were more prepared and Jim had a chance to admire Oswald's naked body in front of him. He would enjoy the view even more if his phone wasn't ringing hysterically. Jim took the day off, so, theoretically, he couldn't be summoned on a case. Too bad, that theories were often smashed under hard foot of reality.

“Maybe, you should answer?” asked Oswald breathlessly. Jim was exploring the area under his belly-button and had no desire to give up his researches right now, whoever was calling.

“Turn it off”, he said softly. The phone was shut and they had approximately four minutes of pure bliss before the hell broke loose outside. Engines roared, hoarse voices screamed and swore, bullets flew and a couple of them ended in bedroom's window-frames. Only seconds later someone was banging at Jim's door and shouting in Harvey's voice:

“Jim, damn it, I need your help! Your daft phone isn't working or what?”

“Obviously”, muttered Jim irritably. He raised his head mournfully and jerked, when one of the bullets made a hole in the window.

“Never heard before about police work being delivered at home”, said Oswald innocently.

“Oh, shut up.”

***

There was even a greater number of such calls after that. People in Gotham killed and got killed and when they didn't, they robbed banks and jewel stores (one gang swore on their mother's graves that they would never do it again in their whole lives after being interrogated by extremely sexually frustrated Jim) or groceries (the unlucky thief claimed he was given the wrong type of glasses and refused to let go of pomegranates, insisting they were a rare kind of rubies). For the first time in his life Jim asked himself if being a policeman was the thing he had always truly wanted. He even started to think that quiet towns with shops around the corner were not _that_ bad. At least no-one attempted to rob those shops. Probably.

Jim considered that for a few seconds and shook his head. He liked it in Gotham. He _liked_ Gotham. And he liked his work. He just needed a safe place, where he and Oswald could be together for more than five minutes without anyone disturbing them.

An idea came to him.

It seemed bright at the moment.

***

“Are you sure?” asked Oswald carefully, stepping into Barbara's fancy flat. Jim patted his back reassuringly. Well, that body part _could_ be considered as his back. It was not at the front anyway. And anyway they were finally alone so Jim could freely call it his arse.

Oswald's clothes were as simple as he could let them be. Jim's phone was turned off. Nobody knew they came here (Jim had looked after it with special care). Life was left sobbing behind the closed door and probably thought vengeful thoughts about calling the social services.

“Your work is a nightmare”, sighed Oswald, seizing the moment when they stopped kissing to fill their lungs with some air. “Have you ever thought of changing it?”

“Shush.”

“You could work at my club-” Oswald's voice trailed off. He must have been imagining a line of angry customers outside his office, who were interrogated due to the ordering a particularly suspicious dish or were caught spilling champagne all over waiter's face while complaining about horrible service. The thought was so disturbing that Oswald hurried to strip it off along with his clothes. That took less time than before.

And after that they both thought about nothing but each other. For a while.

As they were lying together on the double bed, sweaty and happy, Jim thought that to live and to work here was good, indeed. No hint of boredom. But he couldn't live his whole life on the edge and after a while he met someone who was more important than work. There should be rest. It was all in the balance and harmony. The thought was inspiring and somehow reminded Jim of a nice Chinese restaurant not far away.

They were so relaxed that they didn't pay any attention to the key, turning in the front door. Oswald seemed to be asleep on his chest, so Jim raised his head cautiously not to disturb him. He mused that another piece of police work was delivered at home, but it was too late for it to spoil anything. No crime today, sorry, guys.

But then he was worried that criminals, the largest piece of police work, hardly ever wore high heels at future crime scenes. Or turned on the voicemail.

Oswald jumped and gaped at Jim accusingly.

“ _You_ said Barbara was out of town and won't be back anytime soon!”

Waiters at Oswald's club must have been groaning in their sleep at the memory of this tone.

Jim sighed. It would be much more simple if it really was a criminal. Criminals, at least, could be shoot at.

“Keep that voice”, suggested he. “It will be very useful for the next hour. _At least_ for an hour.”


End file.
